


Drarry Dreams

by oliviawrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Drarry, Fluff, Gryffindor, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Slytherin, feel good, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:49:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviawrites/pseuds/oliviawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixth-year Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are having conflicted feelings. In this drabble, Harry discovers Draco's small secret about fancying Harry. Does Harry fancy him as well? Find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Love Begins

**Author's Note:**

> This work is for a user on tumblr who asked me to write a fluffy Drarry fic as a prize for winning my tumblr awards. Hope you like it!

"What is he doing?" contemplated Harry, who, from the comfort of his invisibility cloak, of course, was observing Malfoy tittering around the Slytherin common room. The room had stone walls and little lighting, but the dark emerald decorations seemed to set off an eerie green glow under the lamps. The Slytherin crest hung ever so proud above the fire place, for house pride, obviously. Harry thought it didn't seem quite as comfortable and welcoming as the Gryffindor common room, but he felt a small, strange sense of warmth, especially when Malfoy walked by. It felt like a ray of sunshine had just hit Harry for a split second before fading into the dim lighting of the room. Draco secretively trotted into the boys dormitory. Harry followed, his mind drifting. "I just know Malfoy is up to something, and I'm going to prove it," Harry had told the unconvinced Ron and Hermione a few hours earlier. Keeping this thought in mind, Harry focused his attention back on Malfoy. Giving him a good and thorough scan, Harry noticed that Draco was wearing khaki pants, a tie sporting the famous Slytherin green and silver, a grey sweater, and long black Hogwarts robes, dark as night. His pale blonde hair, golden as a sunrise, was slicked back in all its usual neatness. His shoes were shined so much that they seemed to reflect the radiant glare coming from Draco's silky sleek hair. All of this had a prodigious effect on Harry. He was becoming less interested in watching Malfoy's actions, but more interested in staring at him. Harry's eyes fixated on Draco's tall, slender body, his porcelain skin, and his swift, graceful movements so much that Harry hadn't even noticed what Draco had whipped out of his wooden chest. Harry, noticing the object, immediately attempted to consign stupid, _beautiful_ Malfoy into oblivion. He moved forward to get a look at what Malfoy was doing with that book he was so hastily writing in. It was no sooner that Harry realized it was a diary than when he had to cup his hand over his mouth to stifle back a snicker.  
"Malfoy? Have a _diary_? What on earth would he be writing about?" thought Harry with a subdued chuckle. But as Harry advanced forward and read the diary, the truth dawned on him like an early sunrise. Written in big letters at the top of the page were the words "Harry Potter." Underneath was a poem all about Harry, complete with a rhyme scheme. Harry was astonished. He didn't know Malfoy had a diary or wrote poetry, much less about _him_. As Harry scanned the page on, suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. He saw three fateful words on the paper that changed his life the moment he saw them, or, perhaps, changed Draco's life the moment he wrote them. "I love him," the words read. Harry was freaking out. He never knew that three words could make a person go into complete panic mode. Harry busted out the door of the Slytherin common room, running down the halls, trying to clear his cloudy brain. Surprised that Draco didn't hear his loud feet tapping with confusion and fear along the corridors as he raced out of the room, Harry stopped in his tracks just to contemplate recent events. The thoughts tumbled around in his mind like garments in a machine dryer. But as Harry pondered all these things, he couldn't help keeping a wide smile off his face. Not a kind of smile that _shows_ , no, a kind of smile that _speaks_. The kind of smile whose bellow echoes for miles around, yelling its words that were hard to say softly - _"I feel the same way."_


	2. Thinking About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel the tension between Harry and Draco. Listen to their thoughts. In this second installment of "Drarry Dreams", Harry and Draco are both restless; they can't think straight. They know if they confess their love for each other, things will end badly, but if they don't, they might never get a chance to tell each other the truth. What will they do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter of "Drarry Dreams." There will be one more after this. Please add a comment if there's anything you think I should write after this. Thanks for reading!

Harry ran into the Gryffindor common room, ran to the boys dormitory, and collapsed onto his large, soft bed that was decorated with red and gold sheets and a red and gold comforter. He sat up, feeling dazed, confused, and slightly sick. He rubbed his forehead, fingering the prominent, lightning-bolt-shaped scar above his right eye.   
"I love him." The words flashed in Harry's brain like a strobe light. He tried and tried to forget them, shaking and hitting his head, thinking about quidditch, but his mind always seemed to drift back to Malfoy and his stupid poem.   
"What on earth are you doing, mate?" asked Ron as he walked in, looking confused.   
"Ron!" said Harry with such surprise, looking up to see his best friend, tall and lanky, pale, freckled, rosy cheeks, and fiery red hair, staring down at him with a puzzled grimace plastered on his dotted face.   
"Oh... Um," stuttered Harry, nervously sweating, "Never mind that. Where were you?"   
"On a date with Lavender. She's killing me man! She's so clingy. And to make matters worse, Hermione's avoiding me."   
"Yeah," replied Harry, his mind drifting back to Malfoy.

 

"No, Blaise, you blithering idiot! I was not 'gazing' at him the other day in the Great Hall! Obviously my facial expression must not have been clear enough to you! You apparently were too blind to see that I was eyeing him with a plain big sneer on my face!" snapped Draco Malfoy, his face becoming redder and redder as he continued. Draco gave Blaise another apparent look of disgust before racing out to the Prefect's bathroom, walking very fast, his face still scarlet from the argument.   
"Geez," joked Blaise to Pansy back at the Slytherin common room. "You'd think Draco was acting in a reality show. So much drama."   
Draco, now entering the Prefect's bathroom, sat down and gave an ample sigh of woe. He ran a bath, for he was stressed, and prim and proper Draco Malfoy always takes a soak when he is feeling taut.   
"It's just so hard not to feel for Harry," thought Malfoy as the clear, colorless bath water ran. The absence of Harry's surname in Malfoy's speech usually meant that he was upset about his feelings for that statuesque, perfect-complexioned Harry Potter.   
"Ugh!" Malfoy groaned. He struck the bath water with a straight, pale hand, sending water flying everywhere. In order to calm down, Draco slowly peeled of his garments, exposing his naked, pale body, and stepped into the bath. Similar to what Harry had done before, Draco's mind slowly drifted to thinking about Potter. 

 

After Malfoy had calmed down soaking in the tub, he dried off, dressed again into his beautiful green and silver Slytherin robes, and neatly combed his glistening golden hair. Meanwhile, Harry, who had escaped Ron's babbling about Lavender and Hermione, was headed down the corridors to one of the secret doors in the castle Fred and George had told him about years ago. Harry walked briskly, careful not to run into anybody who might try to talk to him. His mind was still on Malfoy, and how beautiful he was. Harry was so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed that as soon as he walked past the Prefect's bathroom, out came Malfoy.   
"Just my luck," thought the both of them as their hearts both skipped a beat.   
"Potter," grumbled Draco falsely. What Draco had been expecting from Harry was possibly a sneer, a grimace, a snide remark, any sort of hostile expression, really, but to his surprise, he got none of that.   
"Look, Malfoy," began Harry, but abruptly stopped. As he gazed into Draco's longing eyes, and surveyed his beautiful appearance and fake angry demeanor, Harry's stomach suddenly filled with butterflies. He found it hard to speak, hard to even stand there without breaking into a nervous sweat.   
"I can't tell him, I can't do it! At least not today!" thought Harry, panicking. "I can't tell him that I love him too."


	3. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco can't keep each other out of each other's minds. Is their love real? Do they both feel the same way? Find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter to Drarry Dreams! Sorry it took so long. Please comment if you have a fic rec because I'd love to hear it. Hope you enjoy this work!

Harry burst through the doors to the Gryffindor common room. In his previous conversation with Draco Malfoy, he couldn't believe he still hasn't told him his true feelings. Harry had been able to sneak away from the heated dialogue with a not-so-well-thought-out and not-so-clever and mean joke, topping it off with a miserable grimace. Malfoy had mimicked him, throwing back another quite nasty comment, and the pair split. So there Harry sat, contemplating recent events. In a desolate place, all alone, isolated by the feeling of his own utter _stupidity._ Harry was pouting, and seeing no reasonable resource for his discouragement, he sought out Ron and Hermione. His best friends always knew how to cheer him up. Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy sat amidst plenty of bustling Slytherin students abiding in the common room. Despite all the people, Malfoy felt somewhat secluded and cut off from the rest of them. Even though he usually felt that way, for he sometimes figured his thoughts were too intelligent or irrelevant to share, this time Malfoy knew the exact reason as to why he was tightly situated in the leather chair sulking. _I can't help but thinking Harry looked a bit nervous back in the corridors earlier. I could see a glint of perturbation in his big deep green eyes,_ thought Draco. All of a sudden, his thoughts were abruptly shifted when a first year Slytherin ingested a particularly substantial Puking Pastille and vomited and wretched all over the expensive Slytherin crest carpet. Disgusted, Draco ran into the boys' dormitory and shook his head, trying anything to take his mind off of Harry Potter. Back along the Hogwarts corridors, Harry met up with Ron and Hermione, who had just come back from dinner in the Great Hall, and they were hastily bickering, as they usually did those days. "I don't see why you can't just shut your mouth about Cormac McLaggen," groaned Hermione. "He's very nice and he's escorting me to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party. And he's a _great_ quidditch player," sighed Hermione, seeming like she was trying to put a lot of emphasis on her words. Ron however, either didn't notice or was too angry to care. Harry impetuously intervened before things got too serious. "How was dinner?" he asked flatly. "Good," Ron and Hermione responded in unison. The trio sat in silence for a few moments, but soon enough Ron and Hermione were back to talking again. Harry announced that he was heading to the Great Hall for dinner and started to walk there. When he arrived at the Gryffindor table, he noticed that in the far side of the room, at the Slytherin table, sat Draco Malfoy, sporting his ever-so-grouchy look. Harry immediately averted his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Throughout the entire time he ate his meal, he did not look up once, in fear that Malfoy would be staring back at him. Harry just couldn't take that, considering his feelings. He didn't want to feel them, he hated them. He wished they would go away; they were just so _wrong._ But sometimes the feelings that make the least sense encompass the most emotion. Feelings can't be controlled, and Harry knew that. So he just had to stay away. A few hours later, Draco lay in his bed, wide awake when everyone else was long asleep. "Sleepless in Slytherin," thought Draco, laughing at his own joke. As he sat there, thinking about Harry, he decided to take action. Draco was not a scared little boy. He was a man. He slipped on his velvet slippers embroidered with the Malfoy family crest and his silk robe and set off to roam the corridors of the castle. Across the school, Harry, coincidentally, was feeling the same way as Malfoy. He couldn't sleep, he tossed and turned in his bed. "How will I control my emotions?" he thought. Feeling daring, a true Gryffindor, Harry snatched his invisibility cloak inherited from his father and the Marauders' Map, also inherited from his father but given to him by Fred and George Weasley and just the same as Malfoy, set off to roam the castle. " _Lumos,_ " whispered Harry, causing a bright light to illuminate from the tip of his 11 inch holly wood wand. He scanned the corridors, swiping his wand from left to right, left to right, left to right. Meanwhile, Malfoy had his wand tip illuminated as well, but it was much harder for him to get around, for he did not have an invisibility cloak. Draco had to keep darting behind statues to hide himself and say, " _Nox,_ " to put out the light in his wand whenever he suspected a professor, or worse, Filch walking around. When a pitter patter of feet echoed throughout the corridors, Draco nervously ducked behind a statue and put out his wand light. "Hmm," he thought, his extremely observant tactics coming in handy. "That doesn't sound like a professor walking. No, the footsteps are lighter, and it almost sounds like the person is...sneaking?" Draco wondered if it could be another student out of bed. All of a sudden, Harry, who obviously thought he was alone, lifted off the invisibility cloak so much that it only showed his head. Draco immediately sighed. Of course, who else would he encounter out of bed but Potter? "Potter," grumbled Malfoy, putting on his best grumpy expression. "Malfoy," snapped Harry. Harry could feel himself becoming nervous. The angsty conversation didn't go on long. The boys heard a meow of a cat and footsteps. Immediately they both ducked behind a statue that was shaken by their rapid movements. Draco just decided to bite the bullet and pull the invisibility cloak over him, even though he was really close to Harry. Oh well. He'd take being close to Potter before detention any day. Actually, he'd love to be close to Potter anytime, really. Just as the boys expected, they discovered it was none other than miserable Filch patrolling the hallways at twilight, his nasty but faithful cat trailing close behind him. Harry and Draco held their breath. "It's not because of Filch," thought Harry, who had been in trouble and almost expelled at least twice a year so far. "It's being so physically close to Malfoy." Harry didn't want to admit it, but he could feel his heart beat fast every time his hand brushed Draco's cold, porcelain skin. Filch lingered, slowly sauntering along, but was soon out of sight. The two boys let out a sigh of relief. It was then they looked into each other's eyes and saw not the usual burning red hostile anger, but a simpler, softer look - a gleam in the eye that was that of emotion and longing. Seconds passed. But when you're in love, seconds feel like minutes, and minutes like hours. The pair stood there. Frozen in time. Caught in a time warp from the force of their own love. Whatever it was, it was there, and it was powerful. Suddenly, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed. After that action, Draco realized what he's done and immediately dropped Harry's hand like a hot pan. It was the most impulsive thing he'd ever done. Malfoy was disgusted. He was a thinker, a Slytherin. He never made rash decisions. Harry, however, a proud Gryffindor, took the risk and whispered, "I'll do you one better," and pulled Draco in very close and kissed him. It was wonderful. It was the kind of kiss that put the participants through a wonderful heaven-like euphoria filled with rainbows, horse chariots, and classical music. Draco was tense at first, but the kiss was so sweet and serene he soon melted into it like a marshmallow in hot cocoa. When they let go, realizing what they'd done, Harry and Draco both looked about ready to bolt in embarrassment, but something in their mind kept them there. "Look," said Draco. I like you. I've never told you. I'm sorry." "I-I like you too," stuttered Harry incredulously. So there the two young lovers stood , concealed by the invisibility cloak, completely lost in time, thinking only of each other. Harry and Draco then departed from each other, walking back to their common rooms in the dead of night, completely love struck, but vowing to keep their feelings secret, for it would ruin them. As they both made their way to their common rooms, they thought what it would like if they didn't have to hide their relationship. The thought brought smiles to the boys' faces. Maybe, just maybe, someday.


End file.
